Enduring for him
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: There was always fighting in the house now, and Rose knew it was her job to keep her brother safe.


"How does it rain cats and dogs? Do they ride on droplets or something?" Hugo asked from his spot on the rug, looking up at the big window that filled most of their sitting room. It had been storming for quite some time now-certainly before Hugo had even awoken-and the young male couldn't concentrate on anything except for the noisy sounds coming from outside.

His sister, Rose, did not even so much as glance up from her book. Fourteen years with Hugo had trained the girl to simply quietly take in her younger brother's comments and then ignore every single word that came out of the boy's mouth. This was no exception and, even as Hugo noisily strained to pull himself up and stare at the window, Rose continued to pretend like she was an only child.

"You know, Mum says you're not supposed to ignore other people," Hugo commented, which only earned him the slightest of an eyebrow raise from the sixteen year old wrapped up in herself on the couch. "She said it's _especially _rude when it's your very own _brother_ who is just trying to get a simple question answered."

"What do you want, Hugh?" Rose finally conceded, book set down with a frustrated sigh as she realised that Hugo was most likely _not _going to leave her alone for the rest of the day unless she gave him his five minutes of attention so that he would finally leave her alone. "Unlike you, I've actually got important things to work on, and I'd like some peace and quiet to focus."

"I just wanted to know how it's supposed to rain cats and dogs is all," Hugo said, causing Rose to roll her eyes at the teenager sprawled on their family rug. She ought to have expected something as immature and childish as such a question from someone like Hugo, and the fact that even a slight part of Rose was shocked at his silly behaviour felt like a miscalculation on Rose's part.

"It's just an expression, nitwit, you know that. Sort of like how Mum is always saying we're a couple of Chocolate Frogs whenever you or I get particularly jumpy. We're not _really_ Chocolate Frogs, we're just acting hyperactive. It's not _really _raining cats and dogs, there's just a nicely sized rain storm going on outside," Rose explained, still not looking up.

There was a crashing from the kitchen next door just then, and the sound of raised voices that were trying to remain quiet, but were having a hard time doing so. Rose sighed as a door somewhere in the kitchen slammed.

Her parents had been fighting for quite a while now, but mostly at night, or when they thought that Rose and Hugo couldn't hear. The fact that they were only metres away and already decking it out wasn't a good sign for how the rest of the day would be going. And she had so wanted to take a trip to Diagon Alley with Albus and Scor.

Rose watched as Hugo looked uneasily at the kitchen, then back at her with a troubled expression on his face. At fourteen, he was still incredibly naïve about a lot of things; Hugo thought that their parents were perfect people who loved each other more than anything. He had never really noticed the fighting before now, preferring to live in blissful ignorance.

Rose had never had that sort of chance. Even ten years ago, when the fighting had been particularly strong, she could remember spending hours locked away in her room, singing comforting little songs to keep Hugo from crying.

Rose could remember the slamming and banging that always occurred when her parents were in the same room, and the way the house was always _colder _after every fight. Her parents would edge around each other in sullen, bitter, silence, and Rose would wonder if there was anything she could do to fix this, because she was a good daughter who just wanted her parents to love each other.

But now, at sixteen, Rose did not see it as her job to be a good daughter who was only here to make sure her parent's marriage was repaired. She hated the both of them for being so foolishly selfish, hated them for the fact that they couldn't see the _anger_ they filled this house up with after their fights, because they were both so consumed by their own temporary hatred for each other that Mum and Dad seemed to almost forget about the two poor kids left behind to deal with everything.

Or, more specifically, _Rose_ was left behind to deal with everything. It was her job to be a go-between for the two parents, attempting to coax them back into something resembling one unit, rather than two sides of a never-ending war. It was her job to make sure Hugo was fine and taken care of, and that he didn't feel responsible for the fights, like Rose always had.

She looked down at Hugo on the rug, watching the boy wring his hands and glance nervously at the door. He had spent much of his life thinking his parents were perfect, but ever since they had come back from school in June, he had realised that their home was no longer so _homey_, and their parents no longer quite as loving as they had once been.

The poor kid was trembling, his eyes glistening with tears, and Rose wanted to sigh again. Couldn't her parents see what they were doing to Hugo, who was just a kid? Couldn't they see how much Hugo wanted to make things right, the way Rose had once wanted?

Hadn't they endured long enough, endured years and years of her parents hating each other so much that Rose began to dream of a life where they were no longer together so that at least she could sleep in a house that didn't feel so _angry_ all the time?

Rose watched her brother shaking and breathing heavily, and she was reminded of her six year old self, who had been quiet and scared, worried that any little thing she did would upset her parents and start another fight. And, as she watched her brother crying on the rug as their parents warred in the kitchen, Rose made a decision: she would endure just a little longer, for Hugo's sake.

Rose slipped from her spot to crawl over to Hugo, putting a comforting arm around him, trying to coax the boy into a smile. He gave her another worried look, but she only hugged him tightly, wiping away the tears that had formed, kissing his forehead.

"Do you want to go outside and see if we can watch it rain cats and dogs?" Rose asked quietly, and when Hugo nodded, she pulled him to his feet, the two of them padding to the backdoor and slipping out as the storm continued to rage in their kitchen.

It had always been the two of them, even if Rose didn't always see it. Rose and Hugo, together, no matter what. As she took her little brother's hand and gave him a comforting smile, Rose realised that she had always been willing to endure, for his sake. And she always would be.


End file.
